


Deus Ex Machina

by Violet Lunar Wolf (Dragon_MoonX)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Crack Treated Seriously, Mary Lou Barebone is Her Own Warning, Masturbation, Mechanophilia, Other, Porn With Plot, Religious Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 08:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20132428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_MoonX/pseuds/Violet%20Lunar%20Wolf
Summary: A cross upon her bedroom wall, from grace she will fall. An image burning in her mind and between her thighs.





	Deus Ex Machina

**Author's Note:**

> The leaf machine is basically a printing press that Mary Lou uses to make copies of things, including leaves. The idea came from a Russian fanfic on A03 entitled Young Wretch where, thanks to some things getting lost in translation, the printing press became known as the leaf machine. And then this happened. Enjoy.

Credence bowed his head, one hand holding his hat in place as he ducked to avoid the blow from his adoptive mother, and when he turned he saw a truly frightful image.

Mary Lou, her fist raised with a catalog held in her grasp, was screeching like a banshee. Under normal circumstances, she would carefully control herself in public. Or, at the very least, keep the violence to a minimum. But every now and then she became positively unbearable, not caring who was staring at her from across the street.

When Chastity tried to intervene, she was met with a slap across the face, followed by the sound of paper ripping as pages flew from Mary Lou's catalog. Credence nearly dropped the stack of leaflets he was carrying, his free hand outstretched, reaching for his sister. This, of course, left him vulnerable to attack, and before he knew it his mother was beating him about the face and neck with her catalog.

"Miserable little brats!" she shouted, an ugly vein pulsing along her temple. "Do you have any idea how much work I have to do this morning? I need to take the leaf machine to the repair shop, I have to rewrite this evening's sermon and prepare a meal for those attending the meeting, and there's never enough time do to anything anymore!"

She said all of this very quickly, spittle flying from her lips as she hollered like a mad woman.

"S-sorry, Ma," Credence muttered, taking a blow to the face which sent his hat sailing into the gutter.

Credence bent to retrieve his hat, seeing several pages from his mother's catalog fluttering in the wind. When Mary Lou caught him examining the pages she screamed, striking her eldest son and sending him sprawling on his back in the street.

"Don't touch those!" Mary Lou screeched, her youngest cowering in fear as she backed towards the curb.

Chastity embraced her little sister, pulling her close as their mother frantically scooped up the pages and stuffed them in her catalog. Why on earth was their mother making such a fuss? It was only a simple catalog, one that she had taken from the waiting room during her last visit with Dr. Ivan Myer.

Credence, who was just now getting to his feet, glimpsed a page from the old Sears catalog. He stopped and stared at it, seeing an advertisement for a home motor with several attachments. According to the advertisement, the motor could be hooked up to attachments for churning, mixing, beating, grinding, buffing and operating a fan.

A curious object, he reached for the page but thought better of it when a stinging pain across the palm of his hand reminded him of his previous punishment. The wounds were still fresh and he didn't want to upset his mother, not when she was already acting like a rabid bull on steroids.

He finished collecting his fallen leaflets, trembling as he stood staring at the ground, and heard Chastity whispering something about their mother needing to make an appointment with the doctor.

"But she'll be alright," Charity murmured, rubbing Modesty's back in an effort to calm the frightened eight-year old. "There's nothing seriously wrong with her, and she always seems to settle a bit after visiting with Dr. Myer."

Chastity's eyes met with those of her brother, mirroring his expression of fear and desperation. It had been over a year since the doctor diagnosed their mother with hysteria, and she didn't seem to be getting any better, but rather the treatments provided short term relief instead of curing her condition.

"Run along now," said Chastity, her tone gentle and she released her sister and nudged her across the street.

Curious, Credence chanced a look back at their mother as the Barebone children left to distribute leaflets throughout the city, watching as she practically ran in the building, slamming the door behind her.

.oOo.

Perspiration was beading on her forehead as she stood with one hand clutching her chest, the other gripping the catalog, which was still shedding pages onto the floor. Her eyes rolled towards the ceiling, staring in a daze, her pulse racing.

Mary Lou was suffering, restless and overstimulated, yet unable to find relief. Slowly, she slid down the wall into a sitting position on the floor, dropping the catalog and curling her arms around her waist. The ache she felt in her lower abdomen had spread to consume her nether regions, burning like the eternal flames which called her to embrace them.

She closed her eyes and began to pray, rocking back and forth while silently weeping. Surely, this was some sort of divine punishment, retribution for Eve's actions in the Garden of Eden. Surely, for it fell upon the females of society to bear this cross, as they rightfully should, she thought. And so she prayed for strength, until the sun had sailed free of the clouds and was approaching the midpoint of the sky.

And then she had it. Through the wonders of divine inspiration she had seen the light, knowing exactly what to write for this evening's sermon.

Her movements shaky, she inhaled a deep, steadying breath and rose to her feet. The lord had given her the answer. He had shown her the way, giving her the strength she needed to fight back against temptation.

.oOo.

When evening came, Mary Lou stood in the shadows, watching as her children showed the people to their seats. One hand snaked across her belly, squeezing her thighs together awkwardly as she massaged her abdomen. She would take her message to the masses, and so she grit her teeth and forced herself out into the center of the room, her expression somewhat pained as she began to preach.

"First and foremost, I would like to welcome you here this evening. I know that not everyone has the time to visit. But I thank you. The lord thanks you. He is grateful, for there has been talk of change in recent times. Unwanted, unnecessary change," she said, her lip twisting in disgust.

Her eyes gleamed, catlike and shining, narrowing as she began to pace the floor.

"People such Isadora Duncan and Margaret Sanger, the latter of which got exactly what she deserved when she was arrested a decade ago," she continued, glaring at each and every one of them. "They are not messengers from God. No, quite the opposite. And it is their sinful ways that bring distraction, preventing us from seeking salvation."

Her son, now seated in the second isle towards the back of the building, bowed his head, terrified by the ferocity of her words. The gentle smile she had forced in place had quickly faded. There was cold fury etched into the lines of her face, a sense of power radiating from Mary Lou as though she were giving off white hot energy.

This, above all other things, was why her children had come to fear her. Not simply because of the beatings. Pain was only one method of discipline. Religious guilt and fear was far more powerful, more persuasive than violence alone.

"These people are wrong in the eyes of the Lord! Women must atone for Eve's faults, born of sin, each and every one of us. The females of society must wear mourning clothes as penance for being descended from Eve, the single reason for all human misery," Mary Lou said, her voice rising now, the aura of power around her palpable.

She continued like this for quite some time, promoting celibacy and the burning of one's own fingers to avoid temptation.

"Decent women are able to resist, and feel no pleasure whatsoever during sex," she stated with an airy sniff, her nostrils flaring. "My own physician, Dr. Ivan Myer, has discussed such matters, claiming that sexual desire is pathological and can cause sterility, and that only prostitutes enjoy sex."

"Oh dear God," Credence groaned, sinking lower in his seat. He felt heat rising in his cheeks, turning his face a deep shade of crimson.

He glanced at his sister Chastity, seeing her expression mirroring his own embarrassment. No wonder their mother didn't let Modesty attend this evening's meeting. The subject matter wasn't exactly suitable for children.

Suddenly, Mary Lou turned, her gaze focused on her son. Credence started slightly, gasping as he looked up and saw his mother staring at him from across the room. His first thought was that he had done something wrong, and was about to experience another humiliating punishment, right here, in front of everyone. But instead she smiled at him, and said, "My son has the right idea. Come now, let us pray. Pray for the widows and virgins who are effected by this most grievous condition more than anyone else."

Credence leaned forward with his head in his hands, covering his face as the others joined his mother in prayer. Only Chastity resisted joining in, because they were both too mortified to speak.

.oOo.

Later that night, as Mary Lou was putting on her nightgown and preparing for bed, she glimpsed the catalog on her dresser and moved towards it. She'd been examining the adds for vibrators earlier in the day, hoping they might ease her discomfort.

One of the older models, known simply as The Polar Cub, featured an image of a polar bear with a device that strongly resembled a hair dryer. According to the advertisement, The Polar Cub was recommended by physicians for treating headaches, fatigue and nervous disorders, all of which Mary Lou experienced on a regular basis.

Other devices offered similar results, promising to cure everything from insomnia to gout, rheumatism, neuralgia, influenza and sprains, all while invigorating the nervous system, maintaining proper circulation and exercising the muscles. The only problem was that they were far too expensive for Mary Lou, who was forced to visit the doctor's office in order to treat her hysteria. Because that's all it was in those days, a medical condition with doctor prescribed treatments for ladies who found themselves in a constant state of arousal.

They even offered an alternative name for such treatments, stating that women experienced what was known as hysterical paroxysm, leaving the doctor's office in a state of bliss as though they had indulged in a large quantity of wine. But for some these treatments weren't enough. Most women wanted a more convenient home remedy that didn't involve the use of vibratory massage applied by a physician.

Mary Lou was one of them, believing that she was truly ill and in need of a better solution to her illness. Either that or she was possessed by the devil. Not an unlikely scenario, considering that women were more frequently possessed than men. And with her son so clearly effected by some unseen force, it was possible that his own demons could have spread to consume other members of the church.

She sighed wearily, taking one last look at the objects in the catalog before climbing into bed, the tension in her lower region making it difficult to relax. She tried rolling over onto her belly, clenching her inner walls and spreading her legs. It felt good to have the mattress pressed against her pelvis, her eyes closed as she exhaled slowly.

Her fingers found the faded sheets that stretched across the lumpy mattress, gripping the fabric and squirming uncomfortably. Even now, despite the rising level of discomfort that fueled the ache in her loins, she couldn't help thinking of Credence, her hatred growing by the minute.

Reaching down, she practically tore the blankets off the bed, wadded them up and tucked the fabric between her legs. She all but crushed the material between her thighs, tensing her muscles and groaning.

"Credence." His name escaped between her clenched teeth, rage flaring, sparking in her eyes. She threw off the covers, pulling on a ragged dressing gown before storming out into the hall.

Of course this was his fault. No one else possessed such an ability, causing random objects to explode when he was under a great deal of stress. She should have realized that his disease would spread before long, choosing to attack the most spiritual member of the church.

The door to Credence's bedroom flew open. Her son, already asleep in his bed, was jolted awake by the sound of the door swinging forward and striking the wall. He barely had time to register her presence before Mary Lou's hand closed around his wrist, yanking him out of bed and throwing him across the room.

His back slammed against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. The back of his head collided with the wall a second later, starts exploding behind the blackness of his eyelids.

Credence staggered sideways, struggling for breath.

"Ma..." Her name escaped him in the form of a breathless gasp, bewildered by this sudden attack.

"You!" she barked, standing over him as he crumbled in a heap on the floor. "It's because of you, isn't it? You're the reason why my leaf machine is in pieces, the reason why my health has been deteriorating!"

"Ma, I-I don't... I don't know - " Credence never got to finish his sentence. His mother seized him by the front of his pajamas, raising her fist and hitting him in the face, hard.

"Don't you lie to me!" she shouted. "Exploding machinery! Burning pamphlets! Everything's ungodly, including you! This curse is my own to bear, but you - " She broke off in midsentence, her eyes bulging, staring at him as though truly possessed by the devil.

The room went silent. Credence was shaking all over, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. He'd never been so terrified in all his life, cowering before her like a frightened animal.

"You're going to put it right," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever is inside of you - a spirit, a demon - you're going to put it right. And in doing so perhaps it will leave you." Her voice trailed off into silence, her son flinching as she gently stroked his cheek. "It can't spread if it is weakened, if it's put to work for the Lord."

Credence whimpered and lowered his head, sobbing as he fell against his mother's chest. Her arms snaked around his back, pulling him close.

"I will continue to pray for you," she murmured, holding him as he continued to bleed down the front of her dressing gown. "Heaven help us, Credence. Heaven help us all."

.oOo.

The sun had barely risen when Mary Lou hauled her son out of bed for the second time. She'd been awake since two in the morning, pacing the floor of her bedroom. When morning came, she went to her son and forced him downstairs, stopping in front of the table where a variety of printing materials had been placed.

There were stacks of paper, rolls of twine for bundling pamphlets, bottles of ink and a single leaf machine, surrounded by a scattering of foliage. The second leaf machine, which was now in pieces thanks to one of Credence's sudden outbursts, had been placed in a wooden crate and tucked under the table until Mary Lou had time to take it to the repair shop.

His head bowed, Credence watched as Mary Lou reached under the table and slid the wooden crate across the floor, leaving behind a clean streak where the dust had been wiped away by her movements. She then cleared a space on the table and emptied the contents of the box onto the surface.

"Here." Mary Lou tossed a catalog onto the table. She flipped through the pages and pointed to a picture of the Hand-Crank VeeDee, an older model vibrator that resembled cross between a hand drill and cake mixer. "You're going to help me build one of these," she said, tapping the page.

"How?" Credence asked meekly, looking from the pile of machine parts to the advertisement in the catalog. He leaned forward, taking a closer look at the line of text on the top of the page. "Stop that pain with the VeeDee Vibrator," he read aloud. "Provides instant relief without drugs."

A wicked grin spread across Mary Lou's vile features. He had no idea what she planned on using it for. When her son looked up and saw the expression on her face, he let out a startled cry and quickly backed away from her.

"Now stop that!" Mary Lou snapped, slapping him on the arm. "I've had you doing repairs around the church for years. It shouldn't be difficult for you to take the remaining leaf machine and combine the parts in order to build one of these. Your mother is quite ill, you know," she added in a pathetic tone. "You'll be doing good for the Lord, son."

Credence stared at her retreating form as she headed for the stairs. He then turned, looking down at the scattered bits of machinery and leaves that covered the table. He didn't even remember the explosion that had caused the leaf machine to malfunction. It was all a blur, like so many other unexplainable events he'd experienced.

With a growing sense of unease, Credence pulled the chair out and sat down at the table, going over the pictures in the advertisement. His mother was right to choose him for this task. His knowledge of basic tools and machines was enough that he could build such a device, but was this really something he should be doing?

Knowing his mother, she'd probably find a way to blame him for something else before long. This would only satisfy her for a while, then she would most likely turn on him when the device no longer held her interest. But for now it was a good way to keep her occupied. He might even avoid another beating for a week or two if all went well. And if it didn't, if he failed to construct the type of machine that she so desperately wanted, well, Credence didn't want to think about it.

His hands began to tremble, picking up the pieces and trying to hold them steady. The leaf machine had a hand crank like the device in the pictures, but was lacking in terms of a concussor plate and proper handle. There were rollers for the paper and leaves to pass through, and gears that turned, though most of them had been warped and melted in the explosion.

Shaking his head and sighing, Credence scooted his chair out, moved to the cupboard under the stairs and removed his toolbox.

This was going to take a while.

.oOo.

The morning was halfway through before Mary Lou ventured downstairs, only to find her son asleep at the table. The fully modified leaf machine had been carefully set aside, looking very much like some mishmash Frankenstein project that had gone horribly wrong.

A smile curled her lips, one hand lovingly caressing the cold metal. She didn't even care that her son had nodded off, for this was her salvation, god in the machine that would set her free.

She carried the leaf machine to her room, locking the door behind her and moving towards the bed. There was a moment of hesitation, of questioning and shame. Was this truly acceptable in the eyes of the Lord? Women were meant to suffer for the sins of Eve, but already she had sought release in the office of Dr. Myer. Surely this couldn't be any different. An at home treatment, if you will. One she didn't have to pay for.

She brushed aside the leaves that covered her mattress, their brittle bodies lifting momentarily before spiraling onto the hardwood floor. "All is well," she said softly, her pulse quickening as she held the button at the top of her dress and carefully slid it through the loop. "I must clear my mind in order to continue in the Lord's ways... For the good of the church, for the orphaned children and the elderly peas that need my attention."

Maybe this would help her get past it, relieving the ache that consumed her during the late hours of the night. Maybe this would help her focus her thoughts, returning to more spiritual matters when the deed was done. And maybe... maybe this would just feel really fucking good.

Her skin prickled at the sudden onset of cold air, the delicate fabric of her dress falling to the floor. Leaves crunched beneath her weight as she sank into the mattress, bare skin against the chill of fused metal, causing her to shiver.

She should be ashamed, but instead she kept going, muttering prayers, asking for forgiveness as she positioned the leaf machine between her legs. One trembling hand lifted towards her breast, feeling the weight of it in her palm and dragging her thumb over her nipple.

Mary Lou gasped, struggling to maintain her stoic silence, but the combination of machinery along with her own frantic touch was too much to take. The sensation built within her heated womb, her hand abandoning her breast for but a single moment, seizing the pillow and biting down hard to muffle her cries.

The leaves beneath her shifted on the bed, getting pulled into the rollers on the leaf machine. She was lingering on the edge of hysterical paroxysm when suddenly her beloved contraption shuddered, expelling a flurry of leaves into the air. That was the signal for release, the both of them reaching completion as Credence lifted his head and stared at the upstairs bedroom.

"What?" he murmured groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

There were more muffled groans and thumps, followed by silence. Credence, who hadn't the slightest idea as to what had taken place, watched as his mother appeared in the doorway, her face flushed with bits of leaves tangled in her hair.

She staggered into the hall, attempted to smooth her hair into place, gave up on trying to look presentable and headed for the stairs.

"Ma?" Credence said slowly, not knowing if he had permission to speak to her. She could have easily backhand him as she reached the bottom of the staircase, lashing out if she wasn't in the mood for conversation. Therefore it came as a surprise when she smiled at him in passing, patting him on the shoulder and saying, "There's a good boy," before entering the kitchen and setting a pot on the stove.

Credence blinked and stared at her, his lips parting in stunned disbelief. He watched her fill the pot with water, humming merrily to herself as the water began to boil. Then came the peas for her infamous pea soup, and Credence turned away.

He decided that he didn't want to know what she had done up there with her leaf machine. It really didn't matter, so long as she was happy and not lowering the boom on her adopted children, she could spend all day with that contraption if she wanted to.


End file.
